


We Are Made From Stardust My Love

by BorealLights



Series: Tumblr Prompts and Requests [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Not Beta Read, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BorealLights/pseuds/BorealLights
Summary: Snapshots of Geralt with Jaskier, and their love.I promise it ends happily!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Tumblr Prompts and Requests [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1420699
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	We Are Made From Stardust My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr for Flash Fiction Friday, prompt: Made From Stardust

“Your beauty is beyond compare, my love,” Jaskier whispered in the dead of night, his lips pressed against Geralt’s neck as they lie together in an inn. He is young and naive, but Geralt cannot let him go. “Your hair is spun moonlight, and your eyes two glowing suns. Your heart shines like Venus herself, your kindness as boundless as the sky. You were made by the gods from stardust, my darling.”

“Even Mother Nature pales before you, dear heart. Your hair like the freshest of snows, your eyes lovelier than any flower found in Brokilon Forest. Your love is more pure than any spring, and your wisdom as vast as the sea.” Jaskier sighed as Geralt pressed him into their bedroll, their campfire crackling behind them. He’s older now, wiser. And still he chooses Geralt every year.

“The finest craftsman in all of Novigrad cannot make something more lovely than you, my white wolf,” Jaskier murmurs in the early hours of the morning, cuddled in their bed at Kaer Morhen. Jaskier’s hair is silver with age, but his eyes are still bright, his voice still strong. “Your hair softer and more lovely than any silk, and your eyes brighter than any jewel. Your love glows hotter than any blacksmith’s forge, and your wit sharper than any crafted blade.”

“You are lovely, my beloved witcher,” Jaskier’s voice crackles with age. He is old now, so very old, but he still looks at Geralt with love-bright eyes, though his hands shake as Geralt holds them. He’s weak, and Geralt knows they don’t have much more time. Jaskier takes a rattling breath. “I want to become the wind that brushes through your hair, the starlight that shines in your eyes. May my love give you strength when you are weak, my voice guide you when you are lost.”

Geralt bows his head, his eyes burning as he stares at the fresh earth covering his beloved’s grave. Tears drip from his eyes. “You said once I was made from stardust. I do not have pretty words like you, I cannot compare you to anything lovely. I was only beautiful to you, but you were gorgeous to the world. People have compared your laugh to sunlight through trees, your singing to the warmth of a fire. How can I compete with what they say? You were my light, my hope, my strength. I will miss you.”

Geralt is old now. So old. His joints ache, and his body complains as he lays himself down by Jaskier’s grave. He stares up at the sky, stars shimmering above him. “You too were made of stardust. Your hair felt better than the wan light of the moon, and your eyes glittered brighter than these stars I see. Your soul shone like sunlight off of water, your kindness burned brighter than a meteor. I wish… I wish I could see you again.” And he closes his eyes.

It feels good to finally rest.

“Geralt, darling, get up.” Jaskier’s voice rings in his ears, and Geralt’s eyes fly open. He sits up, feeling better than he has in decades. Standing next to him is his love, smiling, looking exactly as he had in that tavern in Posada so many years ago.

“Jaskier?” Geralt chokes out, and his darling offers him a hand. He takes it, and, with a surprising show of force, Jaskier hauls Geralt to his feet. He feels lighter, somehow, as he pulls Jaskier into a crushing embrace. “How are you here?”

Geralt finally pulls away. He looks down at himself- he’s once again young, and strong, able to protect. His body and armor looks… odd. Only then does he notice how Jaskier glitters and shines, much like himself. His beloved offers him a blinding white smile.

“We are made of stardust, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please leave a comment!
> 
> Find me on Twitter @panda_spirited
> 
> Find me on Tumblr!  
> [Regular Blog](https://howdoistormspirit.tumblr.com)
> 
> [Writing Blog](https://borealwrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
